


The Woman Without a Past

by Cookweave



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 22:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20919938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookweave/pseuds/Cookweave
Summary: A short story that is part of a series centered two years before the events of Soul Edge. This story is about Shura





	The Woman Without a Past

January 15th, 1582  
A lone figure stares out to the moonlit skyline of Japan, a few hours before the dawn would bring first light. It was a blizzard, and certainly not the kind of weather one would want to wage war in.  
Yet that was why the woman was there.  
She had no idea as to why, but this woman was simply drawn to the beauty of battle, and the thrill of taking the life of another human being. All she remembered when she woke up was the voice of a demon echoing through her skull, and how to fight. She could not remember her age, her place of birth or even her name. As such, she took up her calling as a mercenary, and joined in on the carnage of this place.  
“You from around here?”  
“No. This is a place that I have never seen. Like you, mortal, I remember nothing of my past life.”  
The voice that was in her head returned the answer to her question. She was the only one who could hear him (at least she thought it was a him), which made her appear to be merely talking to herself. In truth, this voice was a demon, and the pair of them were entirely clueless as to why they were both tied to one another. The only calling that has brought any sorts of answers to her was bloodshed, but neither of them could remember anything.  
The fact that bloodshed was their craving played beautifully to their current location in the world. They were in Japan, a country that has been ravaged by military endeavours for nearly the past decade. Warlords would lead their armies to clash with one another on an almost daily basis, purely in an unending struggle to obtain more land, every leader with delusions of grandeur.  
“There’s no chance that they’ll unify the whole place, right? There’s just too many factions at this point,” the woman would state with a click of her tongue. She had been hired to assist in one of these battles, her notoriety as both a skilled warrior and ruthless killer showing through. “As soon as they defeat one army, another two will show up and wipe them out, and then they’ll wipe one another out. It’s a vicious cycle that they aren’t going to conclude anytime soon.”  
“So what,” the entity would state with a snarl in his voice. “We savour the feeling of a hunt. We enjoy the thrill of watching someone squirm as they clutch at their throat, trying desperately in vain just to stop the blood pumping out of their pathetic little necks. Don’t lie to me. You love it as much as I do, that’s why they call you Shura.”  
“You aren’t wrong. Ahh, I can’t wait for this to all kick off and we get to killing!”  
The woman would give a stretch before wandering back into her tent. This was so much warmer than the outside and was also where the girl had made herself at home. The tent was tiny, only able to sleep one, maybe two people at best. For a lone wolf like her though, it was perfect. There was more than enough room for her to sleep comfortably, and for her to store away her gear.  
“Shit, it’s so cold out there, I didn’t realise until I got in here,” the woman would whisper to herself. She wasn’t tired in the slightest bit, having spent the majority of the journey here sat in the back of a supply wagon, sleeping, clutching her katana to her chest. Now, that katana lay to her side, simply waiting for the taste of steel upon bone and flesh.  
This sword was one that she had found soon after waking up without her memories. It was… familiar, almost as if it was a part of her. This blade’s edge was constantly kept keen, and the woman was more than happy to have such a reliable weapon of war within her hands.  
A small sigh escaped her has Shura blew into her hands, desperately trying to get some warmth in them for a few hours before setting into battle. The dawn was slowly approaching, and it was at that point where they would meet the enemy for what would surely be remembered as one bloody battle.  
At least, that is what Shura thought she would remember this for. It was likely that this was going to be forgotten as simply another skirmish between two forces whose names will be lost to history. Hell, she couldn’t remember the leader of her side’s army right now, how could someone remember what this guy’s name would be in a hundred years’ time?  
“Tch, seriously…” The woman would reach into a knapsack and pull out a kiseru. She would then rummage around and sigh, collapsing back onto her bedroll soon after. The wooden pipe limply hung from her pursed lips as she stared at the low roof of her shelter. She could see where the snow was landing on it through the darkness; it was a miracle the structure actually kept warm. “And I’m all out of tobacco to smoke too? From bad to worse… Oh well, guess I’m going to be cranky when I slaughter them.”  
“I don’t think the enemy cares what mood you are in when they are bleeding to death from fatal wounds, mortal.”  
“Yeah, whatever.”  
It was not long before the battle, and the rest of the forces were beginning to awaken. Shura was simply waiting in her tent, before the general poked his head in to take a look. She was sipping at some water and snacking on some bread that she had brought with her on her own accord. After all, it was rare for forces to provide things such as food to their mercenaries, since such resources often became scarce, and most generals in this country placed loyalty above all else.  
“Woman, I presume that you are ready to march,” the general said with a stern look upon his grim visage. He was suited in full armour, wearing a battle mask to replicate his face to become one of an oni. “You better not be lying when you say you can do what you claim. Most women just do that to make them feel better about themselves.”  
As the general left, Shura stood up. She tightened the strings around her breastplate one last time, before attaching the blade to her hips. It felt alien to her, wielding only a single sword. She had always learned to fight with a pair of katana, but such weapons were hard to come by, especially ones that were usable after crossing with the woman. She was notorious for breaking weapons. As she stepped out of her tent, she took one last look at her surroundings before having one of the attendants of the force take away her tent and non-essential belongings for battle. Despite the sun now having risen, the air felt even more bitter than before. As she stared out to the horizon, that all too familiar voice echoed in her head “If that old bastard doesn’t get killed in battle, you will kill him, right?”  
“Oh, absolutely.”  
“This should be fun.”  
A smirk appeared on Shura’s face as she took a look over to the other side of the snow-brushed fields of this place. The opposing force appeared to outnumber them by about two to one. She drew her blade and began to roll her joints, making sure she was nice and limber for the oncoming onslaught. As far as she was aware, she was the only one with any namesake on the field on either side. The opposing leader seemed the same as her side; old, misogynistic, egotistical and past their prime.  
She used the term ‘her side’ lightly. Shura simply joined whatever side hired her first, usually for a relatively low fee as well. She would not put two sides against each other in a bidding war, though that has happened by itself on several occasions. Probably due to her looks. She was an attractive young woman, of traditional Japanese beauty as well. In this instance though, she actually felt some disdain towards her boss.  
His attitude towards her was that she was simply eye-candy, perhaps because the aforementioned self-made bidding war meant that her services cost this general six times as much as was initially agreed. He had been talking down her abilities, calling her a nameless vagabond who simply does this for money and attention. His descriptions of what he would do to her upon their return should they suffer a defeat… the threats were very real, but Shura simply laughed at them. After all, what good were the threats of a man who lay dead on a battlefield?  
“Your petty grudges will be the death of you, mortal,” the all-too-familiar voice of a demonic entity once more rang throughout the head of the girl. It was condescending and tied itself to her for reasons that were yet unknown to not one, but both sides. The woman simply ignored him, just angering the entity moreso. “Answer me when I talk to you, wretch!”  
“Now now,” Shura said with a smirk as the charge towards them began. She ran straight forwards, completely against the order that was initially given to her. The general’s voice was waning, and he simply could not bark the order to hold back. Not realising that Shura was simply causing chaos by directly opposing orders, the rest of the force began to charge behind her. Seeing that this was a small-scale battle, fortunately there were no cavalry or artillery on the front lines. “Calling me names is only going to make me talk to you less.”  
Shura could feel the pure rage of the entity throughout both her mind and body. She knew exactly what to do to press the buttons of this voice in her head, and that she was entirely in control. The primordial rage of this demon was nothing more than a slight warm fuzziness to her, allowing her to fight with just a little more brutality. However, the other kept silent, knowing that in the end, he was nothing more than thoughts in this state and, more critically, was tied to the life of Shura. She had no regard for personal safety or a care if she died, so it was in the demon’s best interest to keep on her good side, less he wanted her to plummet a blade through her heart purely out of spite.  
Soon enough, the woman was face to face with the enemy, the rest of ‘her side’ charging blindly, directly opposite of the orders given to Shura and the rest of them. Once the two forces clash, the roars of combat filled the air. Steel was meeting with other steel, as well as flesh and bone. Men blinded by pure loyalty to their lords died around her, and Shura revelled in the carnage. One enemy came directly at her, not expecting someone so dainty to be able to avoid a lethal blow with such ease.  
The male raised his blade again only for it to meet with the sword of the woman, before she raised her leg and thrust it into the throat of her enemy, knocking him to the floor. Despite being outnumbered, the number of the enemy initially lowered significantly due to the effectiveness of a downhill charge. Still remaining vigilant of anybody looking to take a sneak attack on her, she would grind the heel of her foot into the foe. He was winded and dropped his weapon, but still had a tanto at his hip, making him a threat.  
Unlike in a duel, the girl would not be able to revel in the taunting of her foe. Ending it quickly, she would slide her katana through the gap between the enemy’s kabuto and mask, piercing through the eye, then the brain. A soft squelching was followed by the sound of the bone crunching against the sword. The male would then spasm violently before going still. Pulling the blade out, Shura would deliver a thrust kick again, this time less aimed. This brought a second male off-balance but did not do anything significant in terms of damage.  
What it did do, however, was buy the girl time.  
Taking the opportunity she had just created for herself, she picked up the katana that she had knocked from the hands of her first victim. Spinning it around and facing the man he had just kicked in the chest to let her grab the other weapon. “Neat,” she whispers to herself as she takes a swing at her foe, which was cleanly guarded. “Even better,” the woman speaks as she licks her lips in sadistic glee. “It looks as though this guy will be more fun to play with.”  
Swinging the newly obtained blade, Shura would giggle as she felt the blow be resisted. It was taking all of his might to bat that blow aside and throw a counterattack. A shame that this was not done well by him, as the woman guarded with both blades, bringing the male’s weapon to the floor before placing a foot on it. With all of her weight upon it, she smashed against the other’s kabuto with a sword hilt, that clanging euphoric to her. The other stumbled back as he reeled from the shot, bending and snapping the sword that he had. His helmet had fallen off as well to reveal a man no older than seventeen. Such a prodigy was going to waste  
Once he came to senses, he realised his weapon was broken. Drawing the wakizashi at his back for emergencies, he would once again charge, but that was a fatal error. The blade would fall effortlessly, along with his entire arm. Before he could even process that, the same blade pierced through her gut. Letting go of the hilt, Shura’s left hand would travel up his chest to his face, cupping his cheek. She brought the other sword up to his throat, before leaning in close. She was close enough to kiss him, before she licked his cheek, and brought her hand to the back of his head. “Please,” the man said through strained gasps for air. “Have mercy…”  
Shura gave a devious smirk. “… No.”  
With that, she yanked the blade about six inches. It sliced across the neck of her victim with ease, slashing straight through about a third of the neck. The blood spurted all across Shura’s face as she took the time to relish the gory shower she received. She was lost in bliss doing this, the sheer thrill of such merciless murder. Those pleads for mercy soon turned into wet gargles of terror, the male drowning in his own blood. He’ll die from blood loss rather than asphyxiation, but regardless, this would be agony. The blade in his torso was pulled out with a twist, just to make sure that it hurt that one last bit. He collapsed to the floor, all but dead.  
Shaking the blades of the crimson that coated them, Shura would shift on the battlefield. This area was scarce, and now Shura’s thirst for bloodshed was far from being satiated. The voice in her head would criticise her for her actions. “This is why I call you a whore,” it would speak to her, as she spat some of the gore that spurted into her mouth onto the floor. “You’re getting off on this shit.”  
“Everyone has their kink,” Shura would respond, a walk slowly increasing into a run. The fact that this demon had fused with her meant that her stamina was inhuman, as was her abilities in combat; her strength, speed and accuracy were not something a human could have. “Mine just so happens to be inflicting brutal murders upon others. Gah! Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine!”  
“Save the orgasms for later, whore. They’ll limit your combat abilities,” the entity would once again scold Shura for her ill-discipline, her wild nature getting the better of her and making sure that she surrenders to her carnal urges.  
“I know, I know,” the girl would say, a disappointed sigh escaping her lips. Both friend and foe were wary of approaching the gore-stained woman, grim looks of dread appearing beneath their armour. “Besides, I wouldn’t ever let that old fart get the satisfaction of knowing he made me do that. He’d brag about making a young woman come for millennia to your comrades, even if it was by his brutal massacre. That doesn’t make it fun for when I get there.”  
“True enough. I think I know where we are going next then?”  
“I’m getting shivers just thinking about this,” Shura would speak to herself as she found herself dancing upon the battlefield, bringing death to both enemy and ally alike. The maelstrom of battle throbbed through her veins, leading to a bloody surge of unregulated violence upon who was unfortunate to come across her gaze. That other sword had broken at some point, and her once jet-black hair was now tinted the slightest shade of crimson from all of the carnage that she had created of herself.  
In truth, this battle was nearly at its end. The side that had recruited Shura simply did not have the manpower and were swiftly overwhelmed. All that she could see around her was this final small contingent of elite fighters, as well as the general himself. One by one, the elite fighters fell, until it was down to the old man and the young woman. The force was entirely wiped out, and there was going to be nobody returning to their families.  
How many had she slain on this day? She had lost count, in all honesty. Not that it mattered. The screams were etched into her memory already, the cries of anguish, suffering and death echoed in her head, and she loved every last second of it. The thought of it alone was enough to lighten her mood, nay, arouse her, such was the pleasure that she took from blind murder.  
For now, however, Shura would sheath her blade and raise her arms in surrender. She was an absolute psycho, for lack of a better term, even if this was fitting for herself, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that this was certain death, there would be no escaping this, even if there was a demonic entity. “We surrender,” She would say in a playful manner, perfect to enrage the ally next to her.  
“Surrender?! What the hell are you on about, wench? You must be suffering from women’s hysteria, thinking that Hiroshita Kurogawa would ever surrender—”  
“Shut it, old man.”  
“What did you say to me?!”  
The older male was fuming, raising his blade and pointing it directly at the mercenary. “You dare talk to your commanding officer like that—”  
“I said shut it, old man!” Shura bashed the sword aside with her kote, preventing the blade from doing any damage to her wrist. With that opening, Shura would use her other arm to throw a punch directly at the general’s exposed head, having lost his kabuto earlier in the battle. Having staggered him, the blow would land directly, the impact of the fist causing the nose to shatter from her raw power, knocking him to the floor in the process. She shuddered, savouring the sensation of the cartilage in his nose being displaced and crushed against her fingers. Oh, she would need to relieve some pent-up feelings tonight…  
Seeing the near impenetrable defences of the man broken so easily in one fell swoop, the soldiers of the enemy lowered their weapons for two reasons. One, it looked as if the problem of the enemy general was about to sort itself out and two, because they risk being attacked by this woman. Some had seen her fell their allies and enemies without even taking so much as a clean hit, and to witness her land such a devastating strike so easily against a man whom had previously been unbeatable to groups of them made them second-guess fighting her. The general stood to his feet as Shura drew her red-tinted blade, from where the steel had simply not been cleaned. She spun it around a couple of times before rolling her neck. “You really are good for nothing. Prepare to die!”   
The woman gave a shrug as her sword lowered to point directly at the general. He would initially attempt a swift strike to the head, wanting to kill her in one stroke. This was effortlessly guarded by the woman, who wasn’t even trying to defeat the general. She was merely toying with him, ready to pull the trigger whenever she got bored.  
Strike after strike would be thrown at the woman in an onslaught of steel. At most, the male would land a small cut with a strike, but nothing worth even considering for the woman. She was guarding each and every strike, her youth working wonders, as her older foe clearly was growing fatigued from the previous battle. Not only that, but he was growing frustrated. The girl was not attacking at all, she was merely taunting her foe. “Damn you,” he would growl. “Attack me, or are you too cowardly to do that whilst my weapon is trained on you?!”  
“Oh no,” the woman would respond, a sadistic glee appearing upon her face as she finally took a stance to strike. “I’m just playing right now. But looks like time to play is up.”  
“What?”  
In that instant, Shura would strike like a coiled snake, bringing the blade across his leg. She had purposely held some strength back so that as soon as steel hit bone, she would be able to pull back and watch him collapse in agony. And unsurprisingly, he did just that. The woman would bring the blade to her tongue, licking the blade of the fresh gore that stained it. Then, she would spit it directly in the kneeling man’s face.  
“This is revenge now, old man. I’m not doing this to play anymore. I’m going to kill you, slowly. And I’m going to enjoy every last second of it.”  
The man’s eyes widened slightly as he suddenly felt the same burning agony throughout his other leg. He fell to both his knees, dropping his katana, only for it to be kicked away by Shura. “Uh uh uh,” the woman would state whilst looking down at his hand that went for the blade. “We can’t have you fighting back like that now, can we?”  
Placing her foot upon the main part of the hand, Shura would leave the fingers exposed to the world. She would grind her foot against the hand to feel it writhe, before bringing her katana to the side of the finger closest to her toe. She knew what she was about to do. He knew too, as did everyone else who was watching on in terror. This woman wasn’t human. They were right.  
“This is a new level, even for you,” the entity stated without any hesitation. She was not worried about what he thought, however. Instead, the woman would just whisper away in her mind, her mouth too focused on not releasing gentle moans of pleasure.   
I know, and I love it. Now, you able to keep quiet, mysterious voice? Shura teased as she slowly began to drag the blade across the first digit, cutting through.  
“So that is how the battle went.”  
Shura stated rather grimly, an expression that she had mastered faking, especially after a battle. It didn’t look unconvincing either, as the cuts that covered her body, whilst nearly trivial to the woman, looked considerably worse to those around her. Perhaps this was one of the biggest benefits to this voice in her head; as well as evidence that the entity was in fact what it claimed to be – a demon that longed for battle. It made her almost inhuman.  
“I see,” the caravan master says with a sigh escaping him. He was saddened by this fact, but also not particularly surprised. The man was reckless, and the battle was a suicide charge. It would be his job to inform all of the newly made widows of this, and that would be easy. “Regardless, I am glad that you made it back home at the very least. Go and relax in the bath. I shall see that your reward is increased. There is little good gold will do a captured lord.”  
With a bow, the caravan master would leave, pointing Shura in the right direction. This was a natural hot spring that was discovered on the march here and would probably have been much fuller had there been a victory, or even survivors. Alas, there were none, and this bath was exclusively for the use of the woman. Without hesitation, the woman removed her clothing and jumped in, ignoring the bite of the freezing air around her for that brief moment her bare skin was exposed.  
“You are lucky that you were not captured as well, mortal,” the entity would speak up for the first real time since the battle, cheerful as ever about the situation. “You know what they would have done to you, right?”  
“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a lady when she’s bathing?”  
“A lady? You? Don’t make me laugh,”  
“Rude,” the woman would state in a rather teasing way, allowing for herself to submerge in the water even more than before. She didn’t have to talk aloud to this entity, which would prove to be advantageous. It allowed for her to sink further into the water, only her nose above to let her breathe. “Whatever, you aren’t wrong. I’ve heard what they do to people like me. It’s a shame, but what can you do?”  
“Not get captured?”  
“Good point.”  
A small laugh would escape the woman as much as being underwater would allow. Those wounds that littered her skin were added to the scars that were on her body. She was young, and battle was all that the girl knew. Each cut that she received only added to the scars, but also meant she was used to it. She could block out pain without even thinking; shrug off wounds that could fell lesser creatures. This may also be due to the entity, but she would never really know.  
Looking down, she would take a look at a strike that landed against her thigh. It didn’t feel too painful, only stinging a little bit. But the wound was deep, and an infection would be bad. Making sure to clean out the wound with a wince, Shura would then relax herself once more.  
She had lost track of how long she had been in the bath. Somehow, she had lost herself in her thoughts, and completely forgot that she had a place to be. After all, when you are as chaotic and unpredictable as Shura was, you needed to make sure that you were traced. Acting in the way she did made a lot of enemies and one false move could lead to her dying rather swiftly.  
Drying herself off and re-applying her clothing and armour, the woman gave a small nod before returning to the main camp. There were a few more people here, presumably reinforcements from the beating that was received. Some of them wore a small amulet underneath their breastplate. Perhaps they were mercenaries, hired simply to relieve some of the pressure on the already dwindling forces. Shrugging, Shura would simply find the quartermaster.  
“My pay, please. I will be heading off after this.”  
Silently, the man handed the girl a sack of money. It was a huge amount, especially seeing that this was a single person for a single battle. Mercenaries clearly were some of the most reliable units in an army. Opening the bag, she would see coins aplenty; nothing short of the value of three thousand. With that, Shura was on her way.  
It had already become night by the time she left, and the nearest settlement was still a few hours away from here. It would be best to get there and sleep in a real bed. Her tent was nice, sure, but a permanent building would beat that any day.  
Once again, hours passed without Shura even thinking about it. The demonic entity was silent and wouldn’t speak until he had a good reason to. Fortunately for them though, that reason may be approaching them in a panicked state. Trekking through the woodlands, she came upon a merchant hell-bent on slaughtering her. Why? She had no idea. The guy was a joke and died swiftly anyway.  
“Look what we have here,” Shura would state through the worsening storm, the figure appearing clearer and cleared in her vision. “Seems like we may just get one last bit of fun before we retire for the night. Does he have a katana too?   
“Ooh, I’m getting chills! This will be fun...”

END


End file.
